


Make it Count

by peetasblueyes



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Paparazzi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:10:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peetasblueyes/pseuds/peetasblueyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss is hired by a photographer to kiss a famous singer for a tabloid picture. Too bad she doesn't realize who exactly it is she's going to be kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this from a prompt I found on tumblr: I was hired to walk up to you and kiss you in public for the paparazzi and I only did it because I’m broke but you are a good guy and a good kisser I’m so sorry
> 
> It was supposed to just be a drabble and then it spiraled into this long mess. Thank you to papofglencoe for betaing this! Much love for you girl <33
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

“Make sure he’s facing towards my direction when you kiss him, sweetheart.” The middle-aged man shoves a wad of cash into the sweaty palm of my hand. “Half of the money is there. You’ll get the other half when I get my picture. Don’t screw this up, I only get one chance.” 

 

“Trust me, you’ll get your little scandal.” I say in a hushed voice as I lick the tip of my thumb to count through the bills. _440… 460… 480… 500._

 

I’ve long decided to ignore the unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’m throwing away any morals I had, but I need this. No- _Prim_ needs this. I won’t let another day go by where my little sister lies to my face that she’s not hungry. She smiles, but I know underneath she’s starving.

 

“You don’t have to talk so quietly. This is New York. No one cares enough to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations.”

 

“So are you going to tell me who this mystery celebrity is? I have to kiss him, assuming that it _is_ a male, shouldn’t I at least get to know?” I almost shout, just to spite him.

 

“No, sweetheart, that was part of the deal. You don’t get to know who it is. I’ve been conned too many times by people taking half the money and then ratting me to publicists for twice the amount I offered.” He pulls out a flask from a pocket inside his jacket and takes a large swig. “He’s a singer, that’s all you need to know. Like I said, I only got one more chance. I’m not risking anything.”

 

“Shouldn’t you be as sober as possible if you want to get a sure shot of this?” I scowl at him in disdain. I’ve only known this pap for an hour and he’s had more to drink than I do in a week. He’s either stashed a few of those flasks in his pocket or it’s magically bottomless because he’s constantly sneaking gulps.

 

He hands me his bottle and motions his hand for me to take a sip. “You should drink some, it’ll get that stick out of your ass before you have to pucker up.”

 

I sniff the liquor before shrugging and taking a small taste. The harsh liquid burns as it slides down my throat and I immediately feel like retching.

 

“Oh my god, what the hell is that? Rubbing alcohol?”

 

“Thought it would spark your flames some more. Guess you’re not as tough as you try to let on.” His cackle only makes me glare even harder when I hand the flask back to him. Suddenly, the paparazzo stops laughing and clutches to his camera. “There’s your target. Go get him, sweetheart.”

 

A medium-sized guy walks out of his apartment building, just a block away from where we stand. His sunglasses are too dark for me to make out who this secret star is. Slowly, I walk towards my target. My footsteps are much lighter and silent compared to his slow shuffle. He must not be going anywhere in particular, seeing how he is taking his time, not rushing like most people seem to do in this city. It’s not long before I’ve caught up to his pace and I stretch my arm out to tap his shoulder.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

_One… Two… Three…_

 

He turns around and I launch myself into his arms. I close my eyes when my lips press into his. I can feel his surprise when he resists at first. My mouth swallows his protesting muffles. Determined to get the rest of my money, I press myself harder into him and even bring my arms up to wrap around his neck. Slowly, his reluctance melds into desire. Our mouths move in sync as if they’ve played this familiar game before. His tongue boldly grazes between my lips to pry them open. He tastes sweet, like cinnamon and sugar.

 

I’m surprised at how long we kiss and how I’ve allowed myself to be this intimate with a complete stranger. His hands begin to move around. One rests at my hip and the other continues to trail down to grab my ass. I jump at the contact and I want to pull away, but this could be a better picture for the paparazzo. His hand pushes me closer to him and I let out a small moan.

 

How is he so good at kissing?

 

When I finally unlatch myself off his soft lips, I’m prepared to run. During the second I take to catch my breath before taking off, he takes off his sunglasses and quickly grips my wrist. I catch a glimpse of crystal blue eyes before I turn around immediately, panicking.

 

“Katniss? Katniss Everdeen?”

 

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. He knows me. He knows my name. My eyebrows furrow in confusion. Wait, who am I kidding? I don’t know any celebrities. Cautiously, I take my time and turn back around slowly to face him.

 

“How do you know my name?” I narrow my eyes, suspiciously.

 

“It’s me. Peeta Mellark?”

 

* * *

_“C’mon Katniss, I want to look at the cakes!” Prim tugs on my hand. She runs up to the dessert display at the Mellark’s Bakery. The white tiers are filled with cakes, beautifully decorated with flowers made of icing. Each one is different, uniquely crafted by hand. Prim presses both hands against the surface, smudging the pristine glass._

 

_The Mellark’s Bakery is the most popular shop in our small Connecticut town, Panem. Most people get their bread from here, freshly baked daily, and cakes for every special occasion. They sell everything from savory cheese buns to sweet cinnamon rolls._

 

_“Can we buy one for Dad’s birthday? It’s soon, right?”_

 

_I smile at my little sister. “Of course, Little Duck. I’m proud that you remembered it this year. Next week, we’ll come back with Mom to choose a cake together.”_

 

_“Really? We get to take one of these cakes home?”_

 

_“I wouldn’t lie to you, would I?” I pull on one of her braids, teasingly._

 

_“No!” She furiously shakes her head and giggles. “Can we go in?”_

 

_“I suppose we could buy some bread to bring home. Let’s go.”_

 

_Giddy and excited, she skips into the bakery. I follow inside after her and we’re welcomed with the heavenly smell of sugar and spice. I walk straight to the bread while Prim runs to admire the desserts some more. The sourdough looks like the safest choice. Since it’s late in the afternoon, all the best bread is already bought out and the normally softer bread has most likely hardened quite a bit by now._

 

_“I thought you liked our cheese buns the best.”_

 

_I turn around to find the baker’s bulky son, Peeta Mellark. His chubby cheeks reach his eyes as he grins widely. He has long wavy hair that sticks to his forehead from the summer heat and his thick arms are covered in flour, probably from baking._

 

_“I do,” I say, shyly. I’m surprised he even knows who I am. He’s a few years older than me. I occasionally see him around town, but usually I see him at the shop. “But it looks like everyone else likes them too, because there aren’t any left.”_

 

_“If you want to wait a few minutes, I just popped some in the oven. They shouldn’t take too long. You can take a few home.”_

 

_Nodding my head in response, I smile. We stand in an awkward silence for a while. I stare down and fiddle with the end of my braid while Peeta shuffles from one foot to the other._

 

_“So, um,” Peeta clears his throat. “You’re starting high school this fall. Are you nervous?”_

 

_“How did you know?” I blink, blankly. He knows more about me than I thought. I hardly know him. “But no, it’s still just school. No big deal.”_

 

_He lets out a hearty laugh. “You’re right, high school isn’t that great.”_

 

_“What about you?”_

 

_“I’m heading to New York in a few days actually. I got a scholarship to NYU. School doesn’t officially start until early September but I need to settle in my apartment first and get used to the big city.”_

 

_“That’s great, Peeta. You’ll-”_

 

_The door, forcefully swung open, cuts off my words and heavy footsteps run towards me. The next few minutes becomes a haze and I shake my head in disbelief. I’m frozen in place. I can’t move. My mouth gapes open, I try to speak but sound refuses to escape from my vocal cords. My eyesight is blurred from the tears that have pooled instantaneously._

 

_“Katniss? Katniss, did you hear what I said?” A familiar voice shakes me._

 

_“Pr-Prim… PRIM!” I frantically look for my little sister when I finally come to. She’s not far and immediately runs to my side with a puzzled look._

 

_“Gale!” She hugs my friend but notices his expression is as distraught as mine when she lets him go. “What’s going on?”_

 

_“Prim, we need to go now. Dad… Dad…” My lips tremble and the tears finally escape, running down my cheek. “There was an accident.”_

 

_Her wide eyes grow even bigger and mimic the same wetness mine already have. I grab her hand and Gale takes mine. We run out of the bakery together, not even saying goodbye to the baker’s son._

 

* * *

Oh my god. I begin to laugh hysterically. Of course this would happen to me. Out of all the people I’m paid to kiss, it has to be someone I coincidentally know from my childhood. Peeta gives me a look, as if I’m the craziest person he’s ever encountered.

 

“You are Katniss, right?” His eyebrows knit together.

 

“Unfortunately, I am.” I reply as I recompose myself. “I definitely did not recognize you. You look very different since the last time I saw you.”

 

I take a step back to get a proper look at the ‘new’ Peeta Mellark. His hair is the same ashy blonde color, but it’s been cut short and messily pushed back. The simple white v-neck still sticks closely to his torso, however, in a completely different manner now. Where his shirt normally would’ve clung onto a soft belly, it now rests snugly against what I can only imagine is a tight abdomen. I resist licking my lips when I gaze at the biceps that protrude slightly. Fame has done the baker’s son some good work.

 

“I guess it’s been about 7 years. And that was one hell of a hello.” His lips curl into a devious smirk. “Do you want to explain?”

 

My cheeks flame up. I had expected to make a dash after the kiss. I wasn’t prepared for this mess. The palms of my hands sweat profusely.

 

“It’s kind of a long story,” I lie. “How about I explain it somewhere else, where we’re not standing in the middle of the sidewalk?”

 

“Sure, I know a good coffee shop just up the street. We can sit and talk there.” He pulls his sunglasses back onto his face and starts to lead the way.

 

I turn around to search for the photographer. I find him not too far away, leaning against the wall, grinning at his camera. He must’ve gotten some good ones. We finally make eye contact and he gives me a ‘what-are-you-doing’ stare. I shrug and make an equally confused expression.

 

I nudge my head in Peeta’s direction and mouth, “follow us.” I feel sleazy giving him another opportunity for pictures, especially since now I know who his target is, but it’s the only way I could get the rest of my money. I was supposed to meet up with him right after the kiss. I don’t have any contact information and I’m not naïve enough to think that the pap will wait here for me if I don’t show up immediately.

 

When I see him walking towards our direction, I turn back and quicken my pace to catch up to Peeta. Keeping a few steps between us, I desperately try to think of a good explanation to weasel myself out of this awkward situation.

 

We walk a few blocks until we reach a café in Midtown, an area I could never afford to be in, especially for a $5 coffee. The shop is filled with people everywhere. There’s a line of impatient New Yorkers, probably waiting for their fourth coffee of the day to keep them going.

 

“I’ll just find us a seat over there.” I point to a corner and Peeta nods in agreement. I squeeze myself by a girl typing away on her laptop and sit at a free table. While I wait, I debate on whether or not I should just tell Peeta the truth. I could start apologizing immediately. The few times I’ve talked to him, he seemed like a nice guy. Maybe he won’t be too mad.

 

Peeta shows up after a few minutes with two cups in his hands.

 

“I didn’t know what you wanted, I figured a hot chocolate could be a safe choice.” He takes a sip out of his cup. “They have really good hot chocolate here, although other people will tell you this place is famous for their chocolate chip cookies. But you and I both know the best are from Mellark’s, right?” His wink makes me smile.

 

I notice that formerly noisy room seems to have hushed considerably and people steal quick glances our way. I suppose even with the sunglasses, Peeta is probably still recognizable to those familiar enough with his music.

 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything.” I bring the hot cup to my lips. The thick cream and chocolate melt on my tongue. I groan at how delicious the drink is.

 

“I figured I could buy you a drink since you owe me an interesting story.”

 

I frown and take another generous gulp of the hot chocolate. I take a deep breath, prepared to dish out everything, including my sob story if necessary.

 

“Shit, lower your head.” He hisses and ducks his head down too. I do as I’m told without question. “I’m sorry. I just saw paparazzi. Not just any pap, but Haymitch Abernathy. Man, that guy is the biggest sleaze and he won’t leave me alone for some reason.”

 

My stomach drops when I lift my eyes to discreetly examine the window behind me and behold standing across the street is the very man who paid me. I’m so screwed.

 

“We need to get out of here. If he sees us together, there’s no doubt our picture will end up on the cover of some gossip magazine.” He keeps his head lowered and even brings his hands to his forehead to block his face. He must really not want to be caught.

 

“Wouldn’t it be more suspicious if we leave together? Maybe you should sneak away. I’ll take my time here and leave after you.” I suggest, feeling guilty.

 

“You’re right. I’m really sorry that we can’t finish our drinks. It’s been nice to see a face from home.” Peeta fishes out two small cards from his wallet and hands them both to me. “My number is on there, you can write your number on the other one. I still want to hear this story.”

 

I scribble my number on the back of the white paper and slide it across the table. He takes the card and gets up from his seat.

 

“860. Still got that Connecticut area code. Cute.” He chuckles and rushes away.

 

I scowl in protest. He’s gone before I can defend myself. I sit in the chair for another few minutes, finishing off my hot chocolate, before deciding it would be safe to leave now. I leave the coffee shop and scan the street across me for the photographer. He’s gone.

 

A loud, slow clap startles me and I see Haymitch only a couple feet away from the entrance.

 

“Well that was some Oscar-worthy acting, sweetheart. You must be one hell of a kisser, seeing he even wanted to buy you coffee afterwards.”

 

I cringe at his sarcastic commentary and guilt rushes over my body. Peeta Mellark is actually a good guy. He doesn’t deserve to be dragged through unnecessary scandals.

 

“No. Listen, I’ll give you the money back. I don’t want it, please just don’t sell that picture.”

 

“So you’ve developed some sort of conscience now? You might as well take the money, because there is no way I’m deleting this photo.” Haymitch turns on his camera to show me the display. “Don’t you see how golden these are?”

 

The pictures sordidly capture the moment of beautiful bliss. Peeta’s face is clear enough to be recognized, while no one could identify my braid and backside. It’s as picturesque as a romantic movie scene. My hands wrapped around his neck and his on my waist. The way the city buildings provide the perfect background.

 

Angrily, I fish out the bundle of cash from my purse and thrust it into his chest.

 

“Fine. Do your dirty work and sell them. But I don’t care what you say, I don’t want your money.” I walk briskly away, no longer wanting to be so close in proximity with someone as shady as him.

 

“I thought you needed this money, but suit yourself!” I hear him shouting, but behind the noise of the crowd and taxis, it soon gets drowned out.

 

* * *

_“Mom. Mom, please wake up.” I shake the shell that seems to have taken over our formerly vibrant mother. “Please, look at me. LOOK AT ME!”_

 

_It’s been months that she just stares blankly at the wall, sitting on the armchair in our living room. Some days are worse than others. There are times when she refuses to get out of bed and rejects food completely. Other days, she drifts around the house, like a ghost, looking at old photos or his things, sobbing. Either way, nothing is as it used to be._

 

_When I’m not at school, I work at Greasy Sae’s, waitressing. On the weekends, I hunt for game to sell. The insurance money wasn’t much and it certainly isn’t enough to keep a family of three alive, especially when Mom can hardly move, never mind earn money. Luckily, Prim spends most her days at school or at the Hawthorne’s. Hazel takes care of her and she happily plays with Rory._

 

_“You can’t just shut out everything. You’re not the only one who’s hurting,” I spit, bitterly. “You didn’t just lose your husband, I lost my dad too. It’s not fair.”_

 

_Frustrated, I walk out of our house. The cold wind stings against the hot tears that fall down my cheeks, but I keep walking anyways. My soft boots scuff against the harsh grey pebbles until they reach a path of dead grass. I climb over the fence that has a sign labeled ‘restricted area’ and continue to walk through the secluded woods. The solitude calms me down. I stop at a large familiar tree and reach inside its hollow middle for my bow and arrow._

 

_He took me here for the first time when I was five. I had my very own set, much smaller than his, of course. Excited, I ignored his careful instructions and immediately began shooting my first arrow. It fell straight down. Wailing in disappointment, my father laughed at my naïveté and wiped away my sobs._

 

_“It takes lots of time. We’ll come here every weekend to practice and one day, there won’t be a single arrow you’ll miss.”_

 

_Sniffling, I nodded in determination._

 

_The distant memory makes me smile and cry, “I miss you.” I break down, falling to the ground. The woods are the only place I let myself cry. I don’t dare to cry in front of Prim or else she does too. I cry alone, shouting in rage, because no one can hear my screams here. A soft rustling comes towards me and my head jolts up from my exposed position._

 

_“I thought I’d find you here, Catnip.” Gale crouches down to sit next to me. “I went by your house to bring you some dinner. I only found your mom.”_

 

_He drops a brown paper bag next to me and puts one arm around my side. I press myself against the warmth of his chest. Gale lost his dad a few years earlier too. We’ve always comforted each other in our losses. I allow myself to cry in front of him. We stay like this for a while until my tears dry up. I press my hand against Gale’s chest to get up when he places his own to envelope mine. He leans into me and gently kisses my lips._

 

_“Katniss,” he begins, softly. He never says my name._

 

 _“No. Gale,” I harshly cut him off. My mind spins in anger. “I can’t do this! I can’t think about anyone that way right now. The only thing that I can think about everyday is how Prim and I are going to survive. There’s no room for anything else.”_

 

_I stomp away from Gale and the woods._

 

* * *

I’m exhausted by the time I get into the tiny studio. I flip on the lights to an empty, quiet room. Prim is spending the night with a friend, Rue. Normally I feel uncomfortable letting my little sister sleep at the house of someone we hardly knew. But she begged for my permission to stay at Rue’s, because it’s the first friend she’s made at her new school. I couldn’t say no.

 

Slumping onto my futon-turned-bed, I close my eyes in peace. It’s been a while since I’ve had any time to myself. The vibrations of my phone interrupt the silent tranquility. It’s an unknown number.

 

“Hello?” I answer cautiously.

 

“Katniss! Hi, it’s Peeta.”

 

“Oh, hi.” I didn’t expect to hear from him so soon. I still haven’t thought of a compelling story yet either.

 

“I keep thinking about how I left you at the café today. That was a really awful thing to do, I’m sorry.” His apology makes me feel uncomfortable. If only he knew, _I’m_ the one that should be apologizing to him.

 

“No, don’t be sorry. You did what you had to.” I instinctively start to chew on my nails tensely.

 

“Let me make it up to you. I can’t go out in public without promising it’ll happen again and this might be too forward for you,” his voice hesitates. “Would you like to come over and have dinner?”

 

I want to reject his offer at first, but my stomach growls in protest and I look at our empty kitchen shelves. One free meal couldn’t hurt. I can’t drag this out for much longer anyways.

 

Sooner or later, the picture will be on the cover of a tabloid magazine and Peeta will see it, demanding an explanation.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Great, I’ll text you my address. Is 8 okay?”

 

“Yeah, that’s fine. See you soon, Peeta.” I hang up, grumbling at how I got myself in such a situation to begin with.

 

I take my time walking through the city before arriving at Peeta’s apartment- if that’s what you want to call it. I push through a heavy glass door and an immaculate lobby welcomes me. Looks more like a hotel than a home. Overwhelmed by the bright chandelier and refined ambiance, I search hastily for the elevator.

 

“Excuse me Miss, this is a private apartment building.” An older man wearing a blue collared shirt approaches me. I look down at my simple t-shirt and tattered jeans. It’s obvious I don’t belong here.

 

“I’m actually visiting a friend, he lives here.” I try to move past the guard and he steps in front of me, effectively blocking the way.

 

“Who?” He snarls, challenging me as if there is no way I could know anyone who could afford to live in a place like this.

 

“Peeta Mellark. He lives on the 18th floor. You can even call him to confirm.” I grit my teeth and speak through them.

 

“There ain’t no Peeta Mellark here-” he whips out a walkie-talkie when another security guard walks up to us. This one looks younger, with red hair and a kinder smile.

 

“Let her go, Cray. We were informed that room 1804 would be expecting a guest tonight and to let her in without trouble.”

 

“You don’t know if his visitor is her. It could be someone else.” His expression stays hardened.

 

“Go on, Miss. The elevators are that way.” The nicer guard points to the back left corner.

 

“Thank you.” I walk away, ignoring the accusatory glare the older guard continues gives me.

 

I softly knock on his door when I reach it and it opens almost immediately. Peeta greets me with the same wide smile he always makes.

 

“Wow.” I gawk at the sight in front of me. His apartment has a warmer atmosphere than the lobby. The walls of his living room are actually windows that display the typical skyline of the bright city that never sleeps.

 

“Make yourself at home! The food is almost ready.” Peeta says as I follow him into the kitchen. I sit on a bar stool and watch him grab two plates from the cabinet. “Do you want a drink?”

 

“Yeah, anything you have is fine. Are you sure you don’t want help? I can’t believe you made dinner, I almost feel bad.” I insist, sheepishly. For some reason, I feel like I’m imposing, despite the fact that he invited me here. He hands me a glass of white wine and pours himself a glass too. I sniff the unfamiliar liquid, tragically traumatized by the drink I had of a certain alcoholic beverage earlier today. I’ve never had any wine before. When I finally take a sip, I’m pleasantly surprised at how sweet it is.

 

“I’m always happy to have company. Honestly, this place is too big and I make way too much food to eat alone.” He laughs. “Besides, I still can’t believe someone from Panem is in New York. You have no idea how nice it is to see someone from home.”

 

“Oh, why’s that? It looks like you’re doing just fine.” I wave my arm dramatically at his apartment as an evident example.

 

“New York is a great city, filled with great people and amazing food. There are so many things to do, but it can also get really lonely. It’s a city you can walk through, surrounded by millions of people, and not know a single face.” He hands me a plate filled with chicken on a bed of creamy pasta and another plate of salad.

 

“Oh my god, Peeta. This looks amazing. I knew you could _bake_ , but-"

 

“I’ve gotten used to cooking for myself. Couldn’t live off instant food forever,” he shrugs.

 

“Wait, I made bread too.” He opens the oven to reveal a tin tray of cheese buns.

 

“You remembered!” I reach for a buttery, flaky bun and pop a piece into my mouth. I sigh at the way it just melts on my tongue. “I haven’t had one in forever. It’s still just as delicious.”

 

“Katniss, I remember everything about you.” Peeta says as he settles down to the stool next to me. “How is Prim? She must be so grown up now.”

 

“She is. She’s 14 and just started high school.”

 

“And your mom?” He washes down a bite of the food with the wine. I grip my fork harder and shift uncomfortably in my seat. There’s a long silence.

 

“Katniss?”

 

“She… She killed herself two years after my father’s accident.” I intensely stare into the salad.

 

“Oh, oh my god. I’m so sorry, Katniss. I didn’t know.” Peeta apologizes excessively, as if he was the one who made her take the pills.

 

“How could you have? You left Panem and never came back.” I shrug. I’ve cried my share of tears. It doesn’t affect me anymore. “It was for the better. She couldn’t handle living and she was self-destructive. Prim and I lived with the Hawthorne’s until I turned 18. I became Prim’s legal guardian and we moved here. To start over.”

 

“It wasn’t my choice to not come back.” He repeatedly swirls his fork into the same string of pasta. “My parents didn’t approve of me going to a big city. They wanted me to stay in Connecticut. Go to a community college, major in business, and someday take over the bakery. I loved working there, but I had dreams. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life decorating cakes.”

 

I lift my eyes to meet his gaze. The warm blue shade faded into icy steel consumed with pain.

 

“So I was given a choice: my family or my future. I chose my future and I’ve never looked back since. I even changed my name to Peter Brady. All this,” he gestures to his apartment. “Has been built from my new start. I bussed tables and sang every karaoke night. Eventually I was discovered through the connections I made.”

 

No wonder I didn’t realize Peeta was famous, he goes by a different name now. I’ve never seen Peeta in such a broken way before. Anytime we crossed paths, he always had a sincere smile and a kind charm. I lean over and gently place my hand on his back to comfort him, the same way I do for Prim when she’s had a nightmare. Peeta moves forward to the edge of his seat, closing the space between us, and places both hands onto my face. His thumb grazes my cheekbone and he slants his lips against mine. This kiss is slow and gentle. It’s different. The opposite of what would be considered as our ‘first kiss’. A warm sensation fills my chest and consumes my body. Despite the tenderness, this kiss makes me crave more. I feel hunger, as if nothing in the world could satisfy me besides Peeta.

 

“I’ve always dreamed about doing that,” he breathes as we unlock lips.

 

He slides one hand down from my face to my hair. I clutch onto his hand to steady myself as I pull him in for a third kiss. Unsatisfied, I let my teeth nip at the bottom of his lips. I boldly trace my tongue against the warm flesh and moan at the wet contact. Peeta strokes his tongue against mine, licking every crevice it can reach. His mouth lingers on mine before breaking away. He continues to kiss the corner of my mouth and makes his way down to my jaw and then to my neck. I giggle in delight when he drags his tongue against it and moan when he sucks on the pulse point. His fingertips rub against my thighs, coaxing them to spread open wider. I’m a goner when he inches higher, slowly making his way to my crotch. There’s no doubt my panties are soaked through and while I curse at myself for wearing jeans, I’m also thankful he can’t see how aroused I am. My hips involuntarily buck under his touch when his thumb grazes the thick material against my clit.

 

All too suddenly, Peeta removes his hand and I groan in frustration. He stands up from the stool and grabs my hand, guiding me across the penthouse and into a room that I can only imagine is his bedroom. I perch myself on the edge of his bed, crossing my legs coyly. Peeta lifts his shirt over his head, flinging it away. His eyes grow darker as he approaches me. Soon, my shirt and bra are tossed across the room and my jeans get peeled off. We’re back in the position we left off. Peeta traces his fingers around the damp spot of my underwear and drags his pink tongue across his lips.

 

“Can I taste you?” He breathes hotly with a twisted smirk.

 

My eyes grow wide and I press my forehead against his, nodding my approval. He kisses me once more before snaking down to the foot of the bed. He pulls my underwear down my legs, dragging his nails on my skin. Planting soft kisses against my thigh, he spreads me wide open. I whimper at the torture. Finally, his mouth reaches where I throb.  Peeta takes his time, lightly tracing one finger up and down between the slick folds.

 

“God, you’re dripping wet. You’re beautiful, you know that?” I blush red at his compliment. Sliding the wet arousal all around, he inhales sharply once before diving in. I bring my hands to my breasts, pinching the nipples in agony. The flat of his tongue licks in one long stroke before exploring around.

 

“Peeta,” I mewl, writhing in pleasure. He roughly plunges two fingers inside me and sucks on my clit. I immediately close my thighs together, caging his head in between. My toes curl in ecstasy and I lift my hips off the bed in a greedy attempt to get more. “I’m going to come. Oh my god, I’m going to come.”

 

Peeta continues to stroke me, my muscles clench tight against his fingers. As his tongue flicks at my clit one last time, a high pitch moan escapes from my throat. I fall back into the bed for a second, but shoot back up when I hear Peeta unzipping his pants. His erection springs out in desperation. I take my finger and swipe off some pre-cum that’s leaked out from the head. I bring it to my mouth, sucking it clean.

 

“I need you, I need you in me right now.” I pop the finger out of my lips and gesture him to the bed. Peeta strokes his cock a couple times before rolling a condom down his remarkable length.

 

“Get on your hands and knees.” He growls in command. I obey his order and I am instantly rewarded with a thrust. He continuously slides inside me, teasing me with a slow pace. I push my ass back into his cock and Peeta lets out a low groan.

 

“Faster, Peeta. Please.” I beg him for a release.

 

“You’re so tight. Katniss, you’re perfect.” He grabs onto my hips and ass roughly as he drills into me harder and harder until I’m practically seeing stars. “You feel amazing. I’m not going to last much longer. I’m close, Katniss.”

 

“I’m almost there,” I’m screaming and I snake my hand down to my clit, rubbing it furiously. After a couple more thrusts, Peeta grunts. I can feel his cock spurting a warm liquid into the condom inside my pussy and that does it. My body shakes from the orgasm that explodes inside of me. Peeta pulls out of me, panting, and I smile, finally feeling satisfied and warm. After throwing the condom away, Peeta wraps his arms around me and pulls me flush against his chest.

 

“You have no idea how long I’ve had a crush on you. I was just a boy, but you had me the day you came into the bakery with your dad, singing.” He whispers into my ear, tickling the sensitive flesh. “Stay with me, okay?”

 

I don’t answer. Instead, I smile and just snuggle deeper into his arms. Peeta’s breathing slows down and eventually turns into snores. My heavy eyes drop and I drift into a sweet slumber, letting myself forget all my problems for just a little while.

 

* * *

“What do you mean- there’s a photo? No, I have no idea. Hold on, let me check my laptop.”

 

I’m roused awake by Peeta’s voice that sounds more frustrated than his usual cheerful tone. He must’ve slipped out of the room to take the phone call but I can still hear it through the cracked door. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, it’s 7- a little too early for any business call, I think. I get off the bed to find my underwear and t-shirt. We may have had sex, but I don’t think I’d be comfortable walking around his place completely naked.

 

“I- I’m an idiot. I’m a fucking idiot. Can you handle it? I’ve got something to take care of.” I pause at the door as I listen to Peeta talking angrily through his teeth. Then my stomach drops. The photos must have been released. I didn’t realize Haymitch would be able to get them out and printed so soon. I feel like vomiting. I can hear Peeta’s heavy footsteps pacing his living room. I quickly grab my jeans from the floor and put them on. This is probably not a conversation I want to have without all my clothes on.

 

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open and walk out into the living room. Peeta is sitting on the couch with his hands gripping his hair. He looks up at me with eyes of disgust and hatred. I open my mouth to apologize but nothing comes out. I’ve betrayed him and his trust.

 

“Was there a video last night, too?” His mouth forms a nasty snarl. “A sex tape you can sell to some sleazy gossip site? I never thought, you. Of all people?”

 

“Peeta, please understand,” I take a step closer in his direction. “I didn’t know it was you when he first approached me. All I knew was that I had to kiss someone and I could make more money with that one kiss than I make in a month.”

 

“He offered you that much money? Oh, then by all means, please continue to exploit my feelings.” His voice gets louder, much louder than I have ever heard it before.

 

Regretful tears escape my eyes and drip down my cheeks. My heart pounds against my chest and I feel like I can hardly breathe. “I didn’t take the money after I found out it was you.” I whisper softly.

 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Peeta jumps from his seat and paces around his spacious living room. “Katniss, I trusted you and you used me. Did you not think about how this could affect me, my career, just once? Why didn’t you tell me? If you truly felt guilty, this could have all been stopped.”

 

“I was going to at the coffee shop. But then you had to leave, because Haymitch had followed us there. And then I saw how much you despised him. You were so kind to me and- and I didn’t want to risk you hating me too. Peeta, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I keep my head down, facing the white marble floor. I feel too ashamed to even look at his face, because now, finally, he can see me for who I really am. I’m a liar, distrustful, manipulative.

 

“Please, just leave.” He says curtly with his eyes closed. He brings his hands up to his temple in distress.

 

“Peeta-” I whimper through my trembling lips. My tears continue to stream down my face.

 

“Just GO! I don’t want to see you,” his voice thunders, shaking me in fear. “Goodbye, Katniss.”

 

Without another word, I respect his demand and walk out of the door. I feel dirty, but no amount of hot water and soap can rid me of this feeling. I recompose myself and dry my face with my sleeve before heading down the elevator. When I get to the lobby, I see a mass crowd of reporters and cameramen pressed up against the door, desperately trying to get in. I brace myself when I move towards the exit. Whispers surround me, “do you think that’s her?”, “but her hair isn’t in a braid”, “she looks a little shorter than the girl in the photo”.

 

“Miss, do you know who Peter Brady is? If so, what is your relation to him?” A reporter with curly red hair shoves a mic under my mouth. “Are you the mysterious girl he was found kissing yesterday afternoon?”

 

I shake my head in regret. “No, I don’t know who Peter Brady is. I was visiting my friend, Peeta Mellark. But I give my regards to Peter. I’m sure he just wanted a simple kiss from a simple girl he liked. Not all this shit that comes with it.” I ramble, but the reporters stopped paying attention to me as soon as I said the word ‘no’.

 

As I push away from the mob, I gaze up at the amazing building and imagine Peeta looking down from his windows. I imagine if we had met again at a different time, under different circumstances. Then we could be happy, cuddling in bed together, and this time I would say, “always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you don't hate me. There will be an epilogue! I'll be working on it after I finish my update for a new chapter in From Strangers to More.
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> As always, comments are very appreciated and you can talk to me on my tumblr at peetasblueyes.tumblr


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written in Peeta's POV.
> 
> Thank you to papofglencoe for being my beta, brainstormer, and motivator. I really couldn't have finished this without her help. You're such a lovely person, C!

I sit frozen on the couch. My mouth is dry from the shock and subsequent yelling. I run my fingers through my hair, and I want to rip it all out. That would certainly hurt less than the pounding headache that won’t leave. I should’ve seen this coming, but I was too blinded by her. I thought I was dreaming when I realized it was my childhood crush who spontaneously kissed me in the middle of the street. It was a stupid mistake to think that she would even recognize me, nevermind actually want to be with me.

 

She looked so hurt when she left, but how could I trust her after a blow like that? That intimate moment we shared, now tainted by the media. I’m not even mad at the scandal. As far as the tabloids know, I’m single. I’m certain that this couldn’t possibly _hurt_ my career. Gossip here and there about a mysterious new girlfriend isn’t exactly bad publicity. I know that. But it’s the betrayal that frustrates me.

 

I shake my head vigorously, trying to get rid all of the malicious thoughts in it. In my peripheral vision, I see a crowd forming downstairs. Approaching the window, I peer down and there she stands. My fists ball up angrily unintentionally. After all that just happened, she’s even talking to the press? What more damage needs to be done? My jaw locks tight and I breathe steadily, until I see the group of journalists and photographers turn their attention away from Katniss promptly. I realize she must’ve said nothing of importance for them to lose interest so quickly. My anger fades and instead I’m struck with guilt and to be honest, a little bit of regret.

 

I shouldn’t blame her for what happened. I shouldn’t think so harshly of her. Truthfully, she was only doing what she could to survive in our cruel world. How little money could she be making that one pap photo could equate more than a month’s salary? There’s no doubt that she’s struggling to support her sister and herself. I want to kick myself for everything I said to her. I must’ve sounded like an asshole. We both opened up with our most vulnerable stories and then brutally pushed each other away.

 

Did I assume too quickly? Did I royally fuck up the only chance I had with the girl of my dreams? She… She didn’t even end up taking the money. Staring at the window, my eyes catch her grey ones, they move back and forth as if she’s searching for something. Could she see me from where she’s standing down there? Continuing to watch her walk away, my eyes follow her steps until she disappears, turning into a corner.

 

I can’t help but wonder if I will ever see Katniss Everdeen again.

 

* * *

_“You idiot boy!” I wince without thinking twice. I’ve quickly learned that usually this phrase is followed with a harsh slap on the head, but I don’t dare dodge it. I know better than that. “How hard is it to turn a dial to the correct temperature?” I keep my head down in shame and repentance. It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention and instead of heating the oven to 375 degrees, I accidently turned it to 475. A hundred degrees can make a huge difference within thirty minutes. The entire batch of loaves came out burnt. There wasn’t any extra dough prepared and it typically takes 24 hours for it to rise anyways, so a new batch couldn’t be made immediately._

 

_I tried so hard to be careful today, not to make Ma angry. She’s been in a terrible mood lately, and we’ve been doing everything to keep it from getting worse. Rye had patted me on the back with pity when I came in after school to relieve him from working. The way his mouth curled down was more than enough for me to realize that there was no chance she was going to be any more pleasant today._

 

_I preheated an oven to bake the dough for the afternoon crowd. As I started the turn the knob, I could hear distinct voices at the front of the store. Realizing there was probably no one by the register, I quickly twisted my hand around the dial without paying careful attention and walked away. When I get to the counter, I see a man squatting down to the height of a little girl. Together, they admire the desserts in our display case._

 

_“Daddy, what are those?” The girl points curiously. She looks exactly like her father, same features. Her dark hair is divided into two braids and her eyes flicker with a shade of bright grey._

 

_“Those are cupcakes,” he explains. His voice has a soothing allure, the opposite of that of my mother._

 

_“Like me and mommy?” She giggles and it’s a joyful, melodious sound. I grin, without realizing. She radiates an effortlessly cheerful energy, and it touches me delicately. I want to be part of her carefree world._

 

_“Exactly, cupcake. And you know what that means,” The man teases his daughter, making grabbing motions in the air with his hands. “I can eat you!” She shrieks in delight when he lifts her up in his arms and peppers kisses all over her face. He stops once he notices me, standing by the register, in awe of their intimate interaction. Though he places his daughter back on the ground, his smile doesn’t falter._

 

_“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize someone had come up to the front.”_

 

_“That’s okay, usually we don’t leave the counter empty. I’m not sure where my mom went.” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. It’s very unlike her to leave the register, without even telling anyone. She’s so paranoid about someone stealing the money, even us sometimes._

 

_“Well, we just moved here a couple weeks ago. My wife grew up in this town and wanted to come back. I’ve always passed by this bakery, but never stepped in. My daughter wanted to come see what you had.” He turns around slowly to take a look at the whole store. “It’s a lovely place you and your family have going here.”_

 

_“Thank you, and welcome back to Panem.” I say with a smile. “I’m Peeta Mellark.”_

 

_“You seem very mature for your age, Peeta. How-” He begins to say, before being interrupted._

 

_“Peeta, what are you doing out here? You should be putting the afternoon dough in the oven to bake!” I could recognize that shrill voice anywhere. My father follows in behind her, dragging his feet._

 

_“Iris, Emmett. How are you?” My parents halt and slowly look up at our visitor. While my father doesn’t seem to have any reaction, really he only looks back and forth between the man and his daughter with a blank face, Mother presses her lips thinly against each other and narrows her eyes._

 

_“Yes, we did hear that you and Adelaide would be moving back to our town.” She crosses her arms and slightly tilts her chin up, sneering. “I would say welcome to our store, but I’m sure you’re not here to pay for anything, are you?”_

 

_I stand there in shock. Mother has always had a harsh tongue towards us, but she never spoke like that to a customer. She wore a mask of false kindness to anyone that could potentially buy from us. Dad, on the other hand, persists with his staring and refuses to utter even a single word._

 

_“I hope to see you two more often.” The man shakes his head sadly and takes his daughter’s hand in his. “Let’s go home, Katniss.”_

 

_“Okay!” She bounces up and down, clearly unaware of the bitter exchange that just took place. She begins to sing a tune, unfamiliar to my ears, but her voice makes me want to memorize every note for the rest of my life. I listen, absorbed by her words, wishing she didn’t have to leave or that I could follow her outside._

 

_“So, they are back.” My father finally speaks with a stunned expression._

 

_“He didn’t drive all the way here just to come to our bakery,” Mother snarls. “I will never understand Adelaide Everdeen. She could’ve had…” her voice trails off as she turns her eyes up and down Dad, glaring. “Well, she could’ve had anything other than that dirty coal miner. Gave up her family inheritance for him?” She snorts._

 

_“He seems like a nice man.” I say quietly. He’s the father of the girl I’m sure I want to marry and he doesn’t deserve to be belittled like that, even by my own mother._

 

_“Why aren’t you in the kitchen? Didn’t I tell you to go put bread into the oven? Are you that incompetent?”_

 

_“Yes ma’am.” I trudge into the back and mindlessly stick a pan of dough into the hot furnace. My mind is distracted with thoughts of the girl in two braids, the girl with a voice of an angel._

 

_Every day after that, I made sure to sneak an excuse to the register if Katniss was visiting. I would hide behind the counter, waiting to hear her voice. It didn’t matter if she was singing or not. Just listening to her talk was enough for me. I would watch her walk home from school as she passed by our bakery windows. Sometimes, I would see her on the streets or at the Hob. She’s usually with her guy friend and sister. Occasionally, she’ll look my way and I manage to muster a shy smile. But, she hardly ever notices me._

 

_One day. One day, I’ll have enough courage to talk to her. Maybe, if I’m brave enough, even ask her out._

 

* * *

New York in the winter is brutal and it seems particularly unforgiving this year. A couple kids, warmly bundled up, giggle cheerfully as they chase each other in the snow and sing holiday tunes. I shove my hands into the pockets of my jacket while kicking a ball of snow in my way.

 

“You’re lucky you have each other. I lost my only chance to be with the girl I love.” I grumble past them. I shouldn’t be acting like such a Scrooge, but I can’t help it. Ever since I chased Katniss away a few months ago, I can’t get the incident out of my head. It still replays constantly in my mind. I distract myself by imagining different ways I could’ve reacted, how I wouldn’t have to lose her. She even haunts me in my dreams. I fall asleep with her by my side and wake up empty and cold. Some days I want to sleep forever, so I can feel her against me just one more time. Other days, I force myself to stay awake because I can’t stand knowing that I’ll dream of something I can’t have again.

 

It’s my fault, really, and it’s a regret I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.

 

“Peter! Peter, where are you going? The studio? Any new song releases for this Christmas season?” A photographer jumps out of nowhere and steps in my way. I grimace, because where there’s one paparazzo, usually a group of them aren’t much farther behind.

 

A cold wind, coupled with a flurry of ice particles, bites and I bring my arm to block my face, which conveniently also doubles as a shield from getting photographed. The wind settles down, and when I open my eyes cautiously, I blink twice. I’m sure there must be something in my eye or that the bright flash messed with my vision, because only a couple blocks ahead of me is a very familiar looking braid. I try to catch a glimpse of the owner’s face, but I can’t quite see from my angle.

 

On a whim, I push past the annoying snapper and follow, determined not to lose sight of this braid. I adjust my beanie tightly, in fear that a larger crowd could recognize me, and keep my head low. Sunglasses and a beanie isn’t exactly the most effective disguise, but I couldn’t care less right now. I continue to pursue my target, almost jogging at this point. I barely make it close enough to graze her arm. Nervous and practically delirious, I tentatively place my hand on her shoulder.

 

“Excuse me?” I hold my breath.

 

She jerks her shoulder forcefully away from my clutch and whirls around, the tail of her braid very close to whipping my face.

 

“Sorry, I’m not interested.” She keeps her head down, staring down at the grey slush on the pavement.

 

“Wait, please. Katniss…?” I grab her arm before she can walk away, determined not to let go this time. I could recognize that voice anywhere. I did it. I found her again. “Please, Katniss. It’s me. Peeta.” With my other hand, I pull my beanie and sunglasses off. She slowly lifts her face up, her eyes flickering up first and then her head.

 

Her cheeks are naturally flushed red from the cold and traces of dark hair that have escaped the braid frame her face. Dropping my pathetic disguise, I bring both hands to her jaw and cup her face. Her beautiful grey eyes widen at my touch and I can still see hurt in them. So I lean in and let my lips do the talking. Our lips press together roughly, consuming each other. Hers are chapped from the cold weather, and I lick them gently. I continue to kiss her, desperately trying to demonstrate how sorry I am and how much I’ve missed her. My forehead presses against hers as we release our lock from one another.

 

“I’m so sorry,” I immediately begin to apologize, breathily. “I- I should have never let you go. You’re everything to me. You tried to tell me the truth, you wanted to protect me, and that’s what I should’ve done, too. I should’ve protected you. Instead, I said words that I regret, and it tortures me everyday. I made the only girl I’ve ever loved leave. Katniss, I’m sorry.”

 

I search her facial expression for a response, anything. We continue to stand on the sidewalk as I wait for her to speak.

 

“Well, say something please.” I plead.

 

“You love me?” She says, her voice thick with hesitation and concern. I nod, rubbing my forehead against hers. She bites her lip, overwhelmed in thought. “But aren’t you worried about-” She quietly lets out and tilts her head towards the assembly of media that has gathered, surrounding us, waiting eagerly for a photo opp.

 

“Let them take their damn pictures. You’re all I care about now.” I continue to cradle her face and slant in for another chaste kiss. Katniss responds, placing one hand on my chest and sighing in relief. Sure enough, I can hear the camera shutters and see flashes of light.

 

“Then, don’t worry. They won’t be able to use these shots.” She smirks, proudly.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I recently learned that paparazzi can’t publish pictures with profanity.” Katniss pulls her other hand that was pressed against my back and shows me her middle finger. A laugh warmly escapes from me, for the first time in months. I weave my fingers through hers and we walk away together. 

 

* * *

“I’ve missed you so much. Don’t, ah-” Katniss murmurs into my ear, licking the shell of the sensitive skin. “Don’t ever leave me for that long. No more tours, okay?”

 

“Trust me, baby. I missed you too.” I hiss at the way she grinds her hips into my cock over our jeans. Being stuck on the road for three months in a tour bus with only my all-male band members and crew was hard. The only female interaction I really had was with my fans, which happen to be screaming teenage girls. I can live without my New York penthouse, comfy bed, and home-cooked meals, but I couldn’t stand leaving my girl.

 

It’s been almost 9 months since we started our relationship in December. We’ve spent as much time as possible together and, of course, with Prim. I promised never to let her go, and I didn’t, until my band went on our summer tour. There was very little privacy in a bus where you sleep in bunk beds like an overnight camp. Katniss and I would talk on the phone when I wasn’t on stage or practicing. When I could find some alone time, we managed to survive the distance with phone and skype sex, but god I missed her touch.

 

“Show me how much,” she demands with a smirk plastered on her seductive face. The way she snakes her hand down to cup my hard length makes me think she already has an idea. Katniss’s eyes darken as she flicks open the top button of my jeans, and I lift my hips eagerly to get rid of the barrier. My erection springs out of its confinement happily, leaking pre-cum from the tip as soon as her smooth hand wraps around it. Mounting off from the straddling position she was in formerly, Katniss now bends down and plants soft kisses on the head.

 

Timidly, her pink tongue slips out and swirls around my tip. Continuing to pump her hand up and down, Katniss slowly dips her mouth lower and hollows her cheeks. Her mouth starts to water and the slurping noises she makes as she sucks only turn me on more. A vibration hums against my throbbing cock and I groan at how good it all feels. Katniss wriggles her lower body against the bed, clearly trying to relieve her own tension while still pleasuring me.

 

“Kat, you asked me to show you how much I’ve missed you. Instead, you’re going down on me.”

 

“You don’t want me?” She pouts.

 

“I do. C’mere.” I lift her body around so that her ass is towards my face. Dragging her shorts slowly down her body, she moans against my cock again. “You’re soaking, so ready for me.” Katniss resumes to firmly pump and vigorously lick me, while I spread her cheeks open wide before diving my tongue into her pussy. I lap up her sweet juices that gush against my mouth. Bringing my hand lower, I plunge one finger deep into her pussy and drag my tongue lower to her clit.

 

“Oh my god. Peeta, please don’t stop.”

 

We continue to suck each other, moaning at the mercy of one another. When Katniss lifts herself up from my face and erection, I grunt in frustration. She turns herself to face me, pulling her tank top over her head. I pull my torso up to ravage her breasts, her perfect dusky nipples, but she places both hands against my chest and pushes me right back down to the mattress.

 

“No more nonsense. I need you in me. Now.” She demands and I swear my cock stiffens more at her words, if that’s even possible. I love it when she takes control. Grabbing ahold of my hard length, she rubs the tip against her  lips, teasing the folds before slipping all the way in. We’ve been truthful with each other after dating, and we started out safely, but after a while the condoms only seemed to be getting in the way. Katniss began taking birth control pill, so at this point in our relationship, we don’t bother with them anymore.

 

“I’ve missed your hot, tight pussy. You’re so wet.” I thrust my hips up, impatiently. Katniss rocks herself back and forth painfully slowly at first, but the pace gradually picks up and she grinds down forcefully in determination. I gently push her hands away from my chest and wrap my arms around her back. Our lips meet in fury, tongues wetly teasing each other. “Are you going to come for me?” I growl lowly. She mewls a soft yes frantically in pleasure.

 

Bringing my thumb down to her clit, I press down and tight draw circles against the nub. I can feel her pussy clenching around my cock. She’s close and I am, too. Her back arches and she flings her head back, eyes closed shut, but her mouth gaped wide open in a sigh. Our hips move, perfectly synced together. I nuzzle my nose along her neck, breathing heavily against it.

 

“Ka-katniss,” I groan one last time before my cock pulses inside of her. My hot cum fills her pussy, and traces of it drip onto the sheets after I pull out. Katniss lifts her legs above mine and plants a lazy kiss on my lips before heading to the bathroom.

 

Rolling over to the edge of the bed, I grab the remote on the end table and turn on the TV. I flip through the channels for something interesting until I see a banner with my name on the screen. Curious at what tabloids have to say about me this time, I pause the channel surfing.

“It looks like Peter Brady is still dating his mysterious girlfriend. Has anyone gotten any information about her?” The blonde host asks her male counterpart.

 

“Well Glimmer, it’s been almost a year since their romance was first caught in pictures,” The picture Haymitch so graciously took of us flashes on the screen for a few seconds before refocusing on the two television hosts. “But he’s been doing a hell of a good job of covering her. There aren’t photos where he isn’t blocking her face or she doesn’t have some sort of mask on. But look at these shots that were taken today, exclusive to Capitol Entertainment only!”

 

A picture of Katniss embracing me after I get off my tour bus is revealed. We had gotten dropped off outside of the city, so I didn’t warn her to wear any disguise. I figured no one would be able to find us, but word must’ve leaked to at least one photographer.

 

“P-Peeta,” Katniss stands at the doorway of the bathroom, mortified. She quickly buttons up my flannel and approaches me hastily. “You have to believe me, I didn’t tip off any paparazzi about today. I don’t know how they found your location. Please, I promise.” Her eyebrows crinkle together and her expression is filled with horror.

 

“No, no baby. I know it wasn’t you.” I reach for her chin and nudge it up. Staring into her eyes, I look at her sympathetically. “You still think I don’t trust you?”

 

She bites the corner of her lip and chews on it for a while. “I know you trust me, but I still am afraid sometimes. That something like this will happen and you’ll want to leave me.”

 

“I would never, don’t ever think like that. I let you go once and every nightmare I had after that moment was about losing you.” Taking her hand into my own, I reassure her that these worries are unnecessary. “I know what’s real and what’s not real.”

 

“Thank you, Peeta.” She manages a weak smile and rubs her thumb back and forth my hand.

 

“But now that our little secret is out to the public, I have something to ask you.” I say, staring into her eyes with confidence. “I have loved you since the day I laid my eyes on you when I was eleven years old. I lost my family, and I was alone for such a long time, until I found you again. Now, at twenty-five, I finally got you and there’s no way I’m ever letting you go. I am deeply, ridiculously in love with you. I know I could never replace your parents, but if you let me, I’m willing to become a part of your family. To start together. So Katniss Everdeen, will you marry me?”

 

I reach over to the drawer next to my bed and pull out a black velvet box. I open it to reveal a wedding ring with a pearl sitting in the middle, encased by diamonds on the sides of it. I bought the ring before I went on tour. The timing was never right, but I knew she was the girl I wanted to marry.

 

“Are you really trying to propose to me when you’re only wearing your briefs?” Katniss snorts, eyeing me up and down.

 

“That’s all you have to say?” My mouth gapes open. She… She isn’t rejecting me, is she?

 

“No,” she contorts her face into a grave expression, holding it for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter. “Of course I’ll marry you!”

 

I jump off the bed and lift Katniss up into the air, twirling around until we’re so dizzy the room spins. She squeals in joy, and I let out a loud, hearty laugh. When we slow down, she stares at me with a lingering desire and slowly tilts her head closer to mine. This kiss is soft and deliberate. I run my tongue against her lips and we break apart, our breathes mixing together.

 

“Let’s get dressed. I want to pick up Prim early from school.” Katniss releases herself from my grasp and starts to tug on her shorts. “She’s going to be so excited to find out that she’s getting to be a maid-of-honor!”

 

I watch Katniss tuck the flannel into her shorts and re-do her braid neatly. I am mesmerized that I’ve gathered enough courage to do something I thought was impossible. I am in awe at the sight of this beautiful woman I get to spend the rest of my life with.

 

“What?” She looks at me strangely. “Why aren’t you getting dressed?”

 

“Nothing. Just-” I smile shyly, bringing my hand to the back of my neck, like a little boy. “I love you.”

 

She rolls her eyes, but responds anyways with a shy beam. “Yeah, I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't I tell you they would get a happy ending?! I couldn't leave my babies hurting like that, I'm not a monster.  
> I hope you guys enjoyed this fic, I know I loved writing it.
> 
> Just a heads up for everyone looking for an update on FStM: I don't think there will be one this month, because I'm planning on participating in PiP (whaat?? YAY!) and so most of my free time I have to write will be spent on that. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to roll out two submissions. If not, there will at least be one. Thanks for being patient :)
> 
> I love you allll!!! Don't be a stranger and come talk to me on tumblr: peetasblueyes


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